Theurgy: Forsaken Oaths (Book Two)

Chapter 44 Negotiations Are Over

       Gabbes awoke slowly and painfully so. He at least was alive, as far as he was aware. Waking up in a hard-packed bed aching head to toe with a searing headache, was not his ideal version of heaven, at the very least. He assessed himself, feeling out his extremities as he tried to remember what had happened the last he was conscious. His memory was indeed fogy, but he and Gray were sent out to deter the Zethan's plans to encircle them entirely. Things went relatively smoothly, and they completely outmaneuvered them. Then there were dragons. They were sent fleeing. He's sure he fought one of them. But then Gray was in the direct line of fire so he had to do something. That was when he looked to his left side, the part most heavily bandaged and cared for. He was missing his arm. No doubt taking a blast from a Frostlandic White Dragon would have frozen it solid. Knights can not heal from that sort of thing; they had no choice but to amputate it, he supposed, the alternative leading to infection. He took a deep sigh, sinking back into his bed as he coped with the pain building as the result of the little movement he had done already. Not too soon after, a doctor walked in, seeing him conscious, and rushed away accordingly. He did his best to sit up, leaning his head against the wall. Soon, the doctor returned with Edlund, Elena, and Dagmyre in tow.

"You're . . . alive?" Edlund asked him. "By Fate, I thought you'd never wake up."

"I'm alive," Gabbes grunted. The doctor noticed his parched words and hand-fed him a cup of water. He waved her away, using his own hand to do so. "Rather you came with something alcoholic though."

"I'll send for whatever you want, master," Edlund said. Then he frowned at the left side of Gabbes' body. "Does it . . ."

"Oh, it hurts," Gabbes told him. "Quite so. But I honestly had the worst, you know. Back when I was serving your da, well, I sort of fell into a Wyvern nest in the south mountains. This is nothing compared to that."

"We'll have him on a steady diet, my lord," the doctor said. "With proper treatment and avra, he should have his arm back within the month."

"But I'll be as useless as a calf in the meantime, won't I?" Gabbes sighed. "I'm sorry little brother. I-"

"Don't even say it," Edlund immediately shut him down. "You don't have a thing to apologize for. Thanks to you and Gray, we got the east secured. And Renard is doing good work elsewhere. Just rest now, master; you've done more than enough already."

"But-"

"You should not worry about anything going on out there," the doctor told him. "You should be focusing on your recovery, and nothing more."

Gabbes grumbled. He would rather be doing something, anything else, other than sitting in a bed doing nothing while everyone else was out there operating. He came here to ensure that Edlund was guided through his new status as not only a commander but a prince, per his mother's request. How can he do that here?

"Is Gray alright?" he asked them.

"As fine as he can be," Edlund said. "He's off back to the frontlines. Dagmyre's in your stead while you rest. You have nothing to worry about, we have this taken care of."

"Well what of the Hyperboreans?" he went on. "and the dragons. They are still out there, no."

Edlund looked to Elena for just a brief moment, hesitancy apparent on his open face when he turned back to Gabbes. "There have been no sightings of dragons after the initial skirmishes. Hopefully, you injured one of them enough for them to die, who knows? But one of the Zethans. . . he survived the fight, but we have him imprisoned here."

"Alive?" he asked. "I thought I . . ."

"His wound was severe," Elena said. "But nothing life-threatening otherwise."